Short and Sweet (Mostly)

* * *


100922

SENSE-LESS

I watch near-blinded as,
from the round of its bucket,
the sun drops molten light
onto evening waves.
I must be near-deaf as well,
hearing no hiss of steam.


100921

MELLOW

I feel peace
(though no push or pull)
and cannot say
whether I’m empty or full.


100920

“THE” ANSWER

It’s all
so simple, really—
so really simple,
I simply forgot.


100919

INCOMING MESSAGE

What fool would be awake
and writing at one a.m.?
Besides myself, I mean.


100918

CONFECTION

Love it all
for its own sake;
the peace of God
is a piece of cake.


100917

AHHHH – HA!

Brilliant!
Utter simplicity.
Why am I happy?
Because I want to be!


100916

MIS-HEARD

You didn’t hear
the thunderstorm?
No, I was asleep.

Dreamin’?
Uh-huh… freezing…
back in Korea…
and other demons, too.


ARRIVAL

Things come e-mail;
things come snail.
Things come true, too,
like that, from you.
(The check was in the mail.)


100915

MOTIVACATION

I know I care;
I care a lot.
I’m just not sure
what about.


100914

FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE

Friends, friends, friends—
whatever we’re in for,
we’re in it as friends.


100913

FORCED
REMOVAL

Cat gave
the bed
another douse—
that’s why
she’s now
in the doghouse.


* * *

Waiting, Thinking, Being

* * *


100912

LADY IN WAITING

Life becomes—as I grow old—
not too tame, not too bold;
not too hot, not too cold.
I’m holding onto a life on hold.


100911

FÊTE ACCOMPLI (for Brent and Lizzie)

Groom and bride
became husband and wife.

For family, friends, and community,
it was all a wedding should be—
a celebration of connection,
an affirmation of love and life.


100910

STILL NOT SURE

I’m not sure why.
I’m not sure how.
I got a job, a car, a mate,
a house to clean and decorate.
Meow, meow,
I got a cat.
I did all that.
Now it’s late.
What do I do now?


100909

NIGHTLY NOOSE

The world is dying.
What can I do?
The media says
I’m dying too.


100908

INTUIT INTO IT

Let me give you
some advice:
don’t think once,
much less twice.


100907

PARCHED

What's that sound,
I hope and wonder—
the approach of
distant thunder?


100906

MORNING MISSED

A sad morning.
The cat who always
escorts our
newspaper retrieval at dawn—
the cat who always
comes when called—
did not escort,
did not come.

Always is not
always always—
at least, is no longer,
which explains how
a sad morning gave way
to a happy afternoon.


100905

SAID AT SUNSET

Please teach me.
Teach you what?

What I need to know.
Why do you need to know?

Hmmm.
Please teach me that.


100904

DAYS DAZED

Time to do,
but little action—
lost my way,
my bearings,
traction.


100903

SYSTEMS ERROR

The downturn
will upturn,
the entrepreneur advisor
advises.
Be ready:
millions, billions
can be made
on one well-made trade.

Well,
why is it well
for any
to take so much
from so many?


100902

CHARMING

At one neighbor house
they quit feeding their pets,
leaving two mama cats
and three kittens to survive
or starve on their own.

Another neighbor
took up the slack.
Three of the cats
(two of them, babies)
have no tails—
he calls them minxes.


100901

SLOW PAY

Work,
no work,
work again.

Money,
no money,
money—
but when?



* * *

Yours, Mine, Hours

* * *


100831

LOVE ME, LOVE MY

Books, movies,
restaurants,
car shows, lectures,
favorite haunts.

Yours and mine,
mine and yours—
hours and hours
have made these ours.


LET IT FALL

September,
please
do.

Do not refrain.

Please,
September,
bring us rain.


HIATUS

A change of pace,
a time of grace—
a day with no
“to do” to do.
Except refresh.
Except renew.


100830

HELP! HELP!

“Here I come
to save the day!”

That means
that Mighty Muse
is on the way.


100829

FRISCO FEST

An August Saturday
with a touch of breeze;
a taste of fall.

We walk and walk
without regard to knees.
It’s a car show, after all.


100828

ENOUGH

Here I am.
Stopped.
Empty.
Alone with everything.
Understanding nothing.

Pain, puzzlement,
pleasure, peace—
indistinguishable.

To whom
do I sing
my death song?


100827

A PRINCE
OF A FRIEND (for Mike)

Spirit unbroken,
as body allowed
he ran his life’s course.

Now,
there’s a hole
in the world
in the shape
of a horse.


QUIT

To live:
to die
to death.


100826

RX: R&R

My brain
has lost its head
of steam.

Let it rest.
Let it dream.


“COMPLETE” JOY

Frisky as a kitten,
happy as a pup—
at least on this work item,
I’m at last caught up!


MIDDLE WHITTLE

Life keeps getting harder;
tougher day by day.
Some keep busy working
while others take their pay.


100825

WACKY WHACK

Summer heat got out of whack—
then, like some mad and mythic cat
that arched so high it broke its back,
it lost its power to attack.


100824

THIS TUESDAY

Days are like friends.
You have to know ‘em.
Be attentive; show it.

Here’s a day
that calls for a poem,
if you happen to be a poet.


100823

LIFE TIME

It’s all a gift.

No need or reason
to deserve it.

No way to save it
or reserve it.

No means to keep it
or conserve it.

Just enjoy it
and observe it.


* * *

Rough Seas

* * *


100820

‘TIS! – ‘TISN’T! (for Alan)

Who can see—you or me?
Which is right—day or night?
Which is wrong—short or long?
Who knows true—me or you?


100819

AS A HUMAN

This is my source
of conflict, pain and sorrow:
attachment to opinions
even I will change tomorrow.


100818

NO FRIEND
MORE TRUE

Mate and friend,
you’ve lived with me awhile
and always gone the extra mile.

Life with me can be a trial,
though I don’t mean it to—
to make amends, is there
something I can do?

Yes, you can.
Be you.


100817

THE DEFENSE
NEVER RESTS

You let us down,
they said today.
It hurts so much
what others say.

Sometimes it’s wrong,
sometimes unfair.
Sometimes it’s right;
that’s hard to bear.

It hurts so much
what others say.
I just want
to be okay.


JUST INFORMED

No. Not that!
My heart
went splat.


100816

SELF HEALING

You hurt bad
and don’t know why,
but this will help:
have a good cry.


100815

MAYBE IT IS FUNNY

My nose looks like
a case of rot
with sores that ooze
and will not clot
plus mucous
that I have to blot.
Snot can be
a real hot-shot
at healing sores,
but my snot’s not.


OVERBORED

Do not scout
the deck for me.
I’m lost.
I’m lost.
I’m lost at sea.

[ASIDE: Actually, less bored than challenged,
but still lost.]


100814

WANT ADS

CDL Driver.
No.
Tax Preparer.
No.
Dental Assistant.
No.
Message Therapist.
I’m on it!


100813

ASYLUM

A thought escaped
as I walked the hall:
“I love her.
God, I love her!
I love them all.”


100813

WITH LOVE AND GRATITUDE

If penned up as a refugee,
I would have the sky;
if dungeon-locked,
a place to lie.

If the bounty I’ve been handed
were stripped off like a glove.
I would still have memory.
I would still have love.


FLAW IN MY CRAW

My work is good
(far from disaster).
If only I could
master faster.


SNAGGED

Next time you’re with your yogi,
rabbi, priest, or shrink,
ask him for me, will you,
how we’re supposed to think.

Do we stalk each nascent thought
like a hypochondriac a cough?
Do we wring the meaning out
or shut the darned thing off?


* * *

Pressure, Pleasure, Pain

* * *


SACRED VEHICLE

“Thou shalt not tempt
the Lord, thy God.”

I used to think that meant
don’t beg for Aladdin’s cave,
don't ask that a dead stick
erupt in rose blossoms.

Now I think it means
take care of your body;
you don’t get a replacement
(at least not the same
make and model).


CELESTIAL SODA POP

(was there ever a tune so aptly named?)

(it’s worth a lifetime to hear it)

(wordless ... and also beyond words

(yet the title says it all)

(wrong, the music does)

(hush, everyone… encore!)


ASIDE: When the subject of personal theme songs
came up this week, I was sure mine was Bob Seeger's
about "I'm older now but still runinn' against the wind."
Then I remembered Celestial Soda Pop.


PREMATURELY
INDUCED

Delivery
can go easy
some say—
some, with experience.
(Breathe. Just breathe.)

I am due
to deliver…
or be delivered.
(I’d gladly gestate
on those phrases awhile.)

Pressure
is coming to bear.
(More gestation.)
I have no epidural.


MANAGEMENTAL

I have modes of attention:

One: utter focus.
Two: blocked.
Three: flit-flit-flit.
Four: forget-forget-forget.

When left to my own agenda,
I manage well.
When deferring to another’s,
I manage. Well…


I DARE NOT LAUGH

I have a cold sore rimming my right nostril.
This is August, so call it a heat sore.
Every time I smile, it cracks and weeps and enlarges.
I really think it’s impetigo,
which pleases me by association with babies.
It looks gross, like a squash-bug sized booger,
which pleases me by association with young boys
who know how to revel in grossness.
It is spreading to my upper lip
and I envision wearing a mustache to disguise it,
which pleases me by association with Groucho Marx
and Charlie Chaplin and all my hero comedians.
Now, if it were only funny.


GOOBER

I forgot.
Natural peanut butter
doesn’t stick just to
the roof of my mouth;
it sticks to my throat.


GOBBLEDY SPOOKED

The more
I say things
(especially, the more I exhort),
the more it all sounds like
gobbledygook,
or whatever gobbledygook word
they’re using these days.


INTERNALIZING

I didn’t notice
that the strawberry
in my left hand
was the size
of the heart
of a red-tailed hawk
until I made
a first slice
into its ventrical.
I should have
swallowed it whole.


100811

SHOWER

Ahhhh.
Water on,
balanced cold to hot.
How must it seem
for one,
used most of his life
to be clean,
to not?


INCLUDE HIM IN

Any man
who can take it in stride
when a coworker
incorrectly asks to take a shortcut
by riding his skirttails
is definitely welcome
at our impromptu
gal’s potluck.

Salad, Bill?
A few strawberries?


TOLL

I can’t decide
if this is funny—

When people say,
“I would pay
to do this,”
I think they
just mean money.


CRAZY FOR YOU (for Ethan)

We met, we talked,
we made a pact—
I and you—and you
became my school.

For you, for you,
I would act the fool—
and not even have to act.


MISSION FROM GOD

My daily duty and obsession
is like that “Blues Brothers” thing.
Everything else is
optional or expendable.


100810

HOME, HOME,
HOME, HOME, HOME

refuge
comfort
sanctified zone

launchpad
anchor
heart-and-hearth stone

floors
walls
roof or dome

grace
delight
us
our own


EMPLOYMENT
AGENCY

Exterminator wanted?
I’m here to apply
for the poisition.

Etiquette coach wanted?
I’m here to apply
for the poisition.

[ASIDE: From a typo in a job ad.]


100809

THE CORE

More
seek to seek it
(to explore)
than know it.
Wander more.
Quest
is at the core:
the province
of the poet.
Ponder.


COME AS YOU COME

Would I stuff you in a box
and tie you up with string?
Would I cram you in a mold
or pin your dainty wings?

Would I force you to behave
like a robot or a slave,
or cast you as a victim
while I played the roguish knave?

Would I shove you on the stage
and force you to compete?
Would I make you toe the line?
Would I bind your precious feet?


ASIDE: As I thought of the effrontery of trying to force
a poetic inspiration into a predetermined line-and-meter form,
this one came to me easily and just about complete. It does
not strictly toe the line.


SPECULATION

My body will go on
as long as it does
and I really don’t think
it will mind when it dies.
As for my mind,
it doesn’t mind now.


ABOUT THAT REQUEST…

Saying now,
“Can’t you give me
a few more hours
in this day?”

. . .will that be
much different than
saying, later,
“Can’t you give me
a few more hours
in this life?”


100808

DEAR DIVINE POET,

Given the late hour
and long day,
which of these
would you do:
go to bed and sleep
or edit poems
from earlier scribbles?

Oh, You are so wise!
But that is why
You are You
and I am …not.


FOLLOWING THE CALL

With the dark
that leaves at dawn,
swiftly, corporeally,
he is gone.

All too soon
will come the day
when corporeally only,
he will stay.


WOMAN OF A CERTAIN AGE

People died today.
I wasn’t one of them.
Am not. Yet.
Not quite yet.
But there are intimations:
mortality tables,
losses, lapses.

People died today.
Most, I think, tried not to.
But I can’t be certain.
I wasn’t one of them.


WHAT I’M ABOUT

One: oneness.
Two: diversity.
Three: gratitude.
Oh, forgot poetry!


ENTERPRISE

Thank you kindly,
Captain Kirk,
but my reward
is my work.


100807

OMNIA FUGIT

“Sic transit gloria mundi.”
Need translation? I’m equipped—
“Certain grasps must be ungripped.”

Un exemplum:
My fresh manicure is chipped.


LIFE LONG

Time for play
is playing for time:
being ex-tension
creates extension.


RIGHT LIVELIHOOD

I ask, am told,
seem shy, am bold.
And what I have
outvalues gold.


DOUBLING UP

My life’s lopsided.
I like it that way.
I overlap
my work and play.


SMALL COMFORT

When I was little,
I didn’t know what to say
to old ladies either.


FASCINATING

Poems come easier now,
I guess because…
everything
is an opening
into something
fascinating.


CACTUS FLOWER

You asked.
I tell.

To dance my dance
and sing my song
means...
love that well
which must be left
ere long.


100806

WAGON MAKER

I knew a man,
challenged
in fundamental ways,
who stumbled through
his crazy maze
of hazy days
in strangely able ways.


DIVERSITY
IDENTITY

Dearest Sir,
Dearest Ma’am,

Bonnet, helmet,
cap or tam—
how can I
pick a hat style
if I don’t know
who I am?

[ASIDE: Did a diversity exercise that involved
expressing individuality through hat choices.]


MAKES NO SENSE

When things don’t flow
or do your bidding,
you gotta know:
“Life is what happens while
you’re making other plans.”

Oh, is that so:
what you “just know”?
You gotta be kidding!
Who has time for making plans?


WIN! WIN! WIN! —
NOTHING ELSE LIKE IT

Cheerleaders by the dozens,
swirling and twirling about
Then the mascot Razorback;
bristles and tusks and snout.

Roaring crowds
scream and shout
calling for a win, a rout.

Powers that be, have empathy.
Please be Soooie generous.

[ASIDE: I overheard someone enthuse today
about the thrill of attending her first Razorback games.]


BARE, RUINED, MIRED

That time of mind
thou mayst in me behold
when mellow thoughts
are none, or few, or old.


POME RITING

let them come
let them come
let them come
just
let them come


APPARITION

gracefulest mama
delicatest fawn

stilty legs,
swishy tails

lithely, quickly
gone


TOP OF MOUNTAIN?
BOTTOM OF WELL?

We all may ask
where ideas come from,
but none of us can tell.


100805

SHORT
POME

Most times
my thoughts
are short.

This time
I’m short
of thoughts.


CANTABILE

Lifelong, I pondered,
“For what music am I meant?”
then learned, with wonder,
“I am my own instrument.”


100804

THREE HOURS SLEEP

The first half of the night,
I scanned the house
for a lost document, but my
searching turned up nothing.

The second half of the night,
I scanned my mind
for that same lost document,
but memory turned up nothing.

Oh, the document turned up
eventually:
when I turned up the lid
of the scanner.


* * *

Work and Play

* * *

100803

CAST

Some of us get the glory.
Some of us do not.
A starring role,
for some of us,
is to advance the plot.


100802

BRAINPOWERLESS

My brain froze up,
and I would not wait
till it thawed out;
so my brain burned up
and I have to wait—
‘cause it’s thought-out.


100801

BACKLOG
UNCLOGGED

Tackled chores
sun to sun.
Tired and proud.
Taxes done.


100731

OPTICAL
DELUSION

I bought a book
on mandalas
and now I sit and stare
with empty mind
at images
I’m not quite sure
are there.


100730

SOMETHING
TO BE DONE

Does something
need a headline or a title?
Here I am. I can! I can!

Does someone
need a slogan or a logo?
Here I be. Let me! Let me!


100729

REPURPOSING

Life and death. Night and day.
Beauty when not seen that way.
Sad-faced clowns and those that smile.
My life’s purpose: reconcile.

(Good grief, good gall, good glory!
My checkbook, if you took a look,
would tell another story.)


100728

PREMONITION

If I should die before I wake
or before I see you again,
I love and loved you, each and all—
my neighbors, friends, and kin.


MORTAL

…because
nothing good
lasts forever.


100727

PEARLS BE FOR SWINE

1
When writers whine,
“me, my, mine,” I scoff.
These gems, so fine,
on which we dine, all come
from the same trough.

2
Are pigs greedy?
No, indeedy!
Pigs would plead
they’re merely needy.

3
Here’s a thought and it’s a dilly—
if a hog became a lily,
that would be so not-so-silly!
(Lily-of-the-field-type lily:
that’s the one I meant. Yes, really.)


WHY WORK?

Work can be an ogre.
Work can be a friend.
I most like the friendly part:
when it meets its end.


EEEEEE!

EOD
EOM
EOY
EOL


FLIP SIDE

Everything ends.
Everyone dies.
Thinking on this,
I’ve become wise.

Death is just life
in other guise.
Nothing can end.
Nobody dies.

How do I know?
I have my spies.


100726

STRAY THOUGHT

Why is it called
mind
when it doesn’t?


100725

POSITIVELY NOT

I kept saying yes
‘cause I wanted to learn.
“Yes, oh yes!”

But what do you think
I eventually learned?
Come on, guess!

I learned how to yearn
to learn to say yes
far, far less!


WORK CAPACITY

For those with experience,
I have a query.
How far does “I love it!”
(applied to work) carry?

Please hurry an answer;
I need to know—
to schedule a time
to “unstring the bow.”


100724

PITHY UNDER PRESSURE

Some write who know. Others, for show.
Some merely bluster and blow.
All may, or may not, have deadlines.

My heroes, though?
Anonymous souls
who flow with the “Go!”
writing subtly ingenious headlines.


100723

YO, YOU!

Ya, you’re the one
I’m talkin’ to.
Who d’ya think—
a kangaroo?


100722

SPEAKING FOR MYSELF

There’s a certain truth
only experience brings:
that inception of fear
is conception of things.


100721

CHALLENGE

It will be hard.
It can be fun.
Best of all,
It will be done.


100720

CONTEMPLATIVE

My ideal, my sublime—
and, yes, I would tend
to my duties and oughts—
is a simple life
with plenty of time
to think my own thoughts.


100719

ROUENS FOR A PEKIN

From home to Gentry to Elkins to home:
one and a fifth hundred miles.
The Rouens are young but large
and don’t yet have the plumage that
will distinguish them as male or female.
Unlike Boodie, they are not pond-bound
and have already made an expedition
up the road, over the hill,
to and around the people house.
Plans are underway for a duck house.


100718

TAKING MULTI-TASKING TO TASK

“Heightened freneticism,”
an author wrote, to say e-communication
doesn’t float his boat—or get his vote—
when mis-prioritized or mis-paced.

I quote:
“Try kissing more and tweeting less.”
More thinking. And more quietness.


100717

WINGING IT

Chores get done, deflected,
or rejected.
Chores get done
and more gets done,
but not what was expected.


100716

SELF-STYMIED

No matter how massive,
longstanding or dense,
there’s always a way
to breach your own fence.


100715

THINGDOM

Is ego the thing
that pines to excel
and weeps
when it doesn’t
measure up?

Is ego the thing
that panics and sulks
after inventing
its own exclusion?

Well, thing, I embrace you.
Let me offer comfort and
help you work this out;
this thing.


100714

ENTRUSTED

Why now?
Because there is
no other when.

Why me?
Because there is
no other who.


* * *

Life, Death, Work, Play—the Usual

* * *

100713

REGRET

Had I but been wilder—
more daring and uncouth—
I’d not now be lamenting
my sadly mis-saved youth.


100712

DROWNPOUR

More! More! Louder!
That’s what this rain’s about.
It may not drown the frogs,
but sure can drown them out.


100711

SO NOT SO!

In my error or my pride,
I had come to think
ideas would be supplied
if I supplied the ink.


100710

MAY I BE
EXCUSED?

“My heart and loves
are mostly gone.
I’ve lived too long,”
she said. “Too long.”


100709

HORS D’OEUVRES
SAMPLER

It’s some comfort,
but not wholly—
that others mistake
wasabi for guacamole.


HE, SHE, SYNCHRONY (for Jeremy and Annie)

“With music and with flair,
you set me a fine snare—
through your daring drum, pet.”

“With music and with care,
you also set a snare—
through your blaring trumpet.”

From trumpet and snare drum—
a one and a one—this harmonious
pair, this duo, has come.


100708

EATING SMART

One diced orange,
a handful of blueberries,
three-quarters of a cup of soy milk,
and a whisk in the blender—
that smoothie began as a foamy,
then curdled to a lumpy.
Now it resembles brain matter.


100707

LEFTOVERS

Mid-July fireworks
in the neighborhood.

How many interpretations to posit?
How many moods to ascribe?

(The one who asks
still has long ago sparklers,
un-unwrapped.)


100706

POISED

Cat on lap,
pad on knee,
pencil in hand,
mind gone free—
all in balance,
exquisitely.


100705

BREAK

I love my work,
but don’t want to do it—
not right now, at least.

I want to do nothing,
lots of nothing—
nothing at all.
Just nothing.


100704

STILL SLEEPING ON IT

This five-day holiday weekend
included travel, business, friends,
and—most needed of all—sleep.
However,
I have not yet slept enough
to prepare for resumption
of whatever first created
this need of sleeping.


100703

DEADLY DULL

I don’t want to die
without knowing.

Most things
I learn how to do
just about the time
I’m done doing them.

What if
how to live life
is an exception
and I daily grow
more ignorant
of what I most
want to know?

That would be sad,
wouldn't it?


100702

IDIO-VERSE

The way I taste,
touch, smell, and see
(presby- and myopically)—
this universe will die with me.


100701

ANSWER ME THIS

Loss of sight and strength and flair.
Old age symptoms everywhere.

Weight and hair subtractions, gains.
(But what's ugly still remains.)

Absent-minded. Sleepless nights.
Hard of hearing. Other plights.

Living on less than living wage.
How do people survive old age?!


100630

CARRIED AWAY

However we are moved
(on lands that walk us,
airs that float us,
waters that boat us),
there’s always something
splendid to notice.


100629

At the mouth of the creek
at the bottom of our hill,
what but beavers
would have stripped
the bases of the trees?
Only the crepe myrtle there
may survive their bite,
already being nearly barkless.


100628

SERVICE

Nature is the friend
who, while you
chatter and flit,
brews the tea
and fills your cup.


100627

UNCOMPANIONABLE
COMPANION

Like a shadow
that never disappears
unless engulfed
by a larger one—
who is this person
constantly interfering
with my heaven—
this entity, this other me?


100626

LET IT STARVE

No! No!
Not another
blank piece of paper—
not another mouth to feed!
I don’t care if it is pink
or that the pencil is fuchsia.
I’m tapped out.
I have nothing to give.
Let it starve.

Oh, okay.
Tell you what—
I’ll trade this crumb,
if you want it,
for equal time:
for a manicure.
Fuchsia.


* * *